Silence thrummed, deafeningly so, in an odd subversion of reality. Qian Jian's bottom line was struck in a manner that could possibly destroy his reputation. A gathering that he organized, a place that he chose, and a spot that he chose, and one of his guests was practically poisoned? The sharp edge of his blade glinted in a split second, and its cutting force swept through the short distance between him and the girl forced to kneel by Long Wei's hand.
Mid-attack, he realized his hot-bloodedness and canceled the attack just as it sliced through the girl's head, leaving a small razor-sharp cut above her ears.
Long Wei's eyes dilated in awe; everything happened faster than his own eyes could track. The girl would have been dead had Qian Jian not controlled himself. In that moment, he finally understood what type of genius Qian Jian was. He always believed that his sword would become unmatched, but it seemed he needed to reevaluate that statement.
